Andrea Pisauro on the lessons of Mussolini’s fascist Italy for today
One of the most intriguing choices in Antonio Scurati’s novel about the rise to power of Mussolini, the first book in his tetralogy currently being adapted into an homonymous TV series, is most certainly its title. Was Mussolini really the “son” of the 20th century?
Was Fascism, as the title implies, the inevitable consequence of WWI with its normalisation of violence and the political instability that resulted, particularly acute in a country like Italy hit by mass unemployment and social unrest? Surely Mussolini was a man of his time and fascism was a response to the contradictions of post-war Italy. But this narrative risks obliterating an important part of the story of fascism: Mussolini’s rise to power was incredibly precarious and in many moments he came extremely close to being defeated.
Discussing such moments is important precisely as they break the narrative of inevitability of the demise of democracy partly surrounding the ongoing coup in the United States and the democratic backsliding around the world. In the same way as another past was possible, so is another future, and understanding those crucial junctures that shaped history is also a way to imagine how to change the course of events now.
For Mussolini, the first of such junctures came at the very moment of his appointment as prime minister in October 1922, following the infamous March on Rome. Nobody forced the king to appoint Mussolini. In fact, the opposite was true as the former Italian government had asked him to decree a state of siege and thus easily repel the marching fascists. Vittorio Emanuele III’s lure for a strong man to end political instability is a good reminder that monarchy and democracy are never fully compatible at a time of crisis.
Yet Italy was still formally a democracy as the king exercised his prerogatives and a Parliament with a liberal majority granted its confidence in the new leader. Like Trump today, Mussolini did not waste time to enact his authoritarian impulses. He despised majoritarian electoral law and dissolved it just 14 months after his appointment as PM. That Parliament that handed itself to Mussolini was not yet fascist. Many liberals and “moderates” accommodated themselves to support the despot. Many regretted it then and will regret it now if they are not reminded of the lessons of history.
In April 1924 Italians went to the polls. It would be the last time for more than 20 years. The “national list” of Mussolini, comprising mostly fascists, conquered an absolute majority of seats after an electoral campaign marred by violence both by the state and the private fascist militia. A socialist candidate, Antonio Piccinini, was killed in Reggio Emilia by fascists. Many more were beaten and prevented from campaigning. There would be no way back from that rigged election.
Later in April, Giacomo Matteotti, the leader of the Italian Unitary Socialist Party, secretly travelled across Europe to raise the alarm about the rigged election and the danger of the fascist government. He demanded moral and material assistance. Across meetings with European socialists and trade unionists in Brussels, London and Paris, he argued that fascism could usher in a European wave of authoritarianism which would be violent, repressive and imperialistic. In London, where he spent four full days, he was received by representatives of the Labour government, the Socialist international, and the Unions. His vivid account of the situation in Italy prompted publication of an English translation of his book The Fascist Exposed – detailing the long list of fascist crimes. Other than that, moral and material assistance didn’t arrive, at least on time.
The significance of that trip did not escape Mussolini, who demanded the Italian ambassador in London find out whether Matteotti had met the Prime Minister Ramsay MacDonald, the first socialist leader governing a European country. The significance of Matteotti’s speech in Parliament on May the 30th when he denounced as illegitimate the results of the recent election, did not escape Mussolini. In an article in a fascist newspaper, Mussolini described the speech as “monstrously provocative”. A threat that should have been taken very seriously, as should all threats from contemporary despots.
Matteotti was killed by Mussolini’s secret political police on the afternoon of June 10th, 1924, while he was walking to Parliament. On top of everything else, Mussolini feared that Matteotti might reveal information received in London accusing the fascist government of corruption over a deal with an American oil company. Indeed, according to an anonymous report published in an Italian newspaper in August, in London, Matteotti might have met a young Brendan Bracken, the lifelong ally of Winston Churchill who would be his minister of information during WW2.
By December 1924, the investigators over Matteotti’s murder had evidence that his murderers had been acting on orders from Mussolini. The king, alerted, did nothing. Il Duce took his chance: speaking to parliament on January 3 1925, he took “political responsibility” for the murder before announcing urgent security measures which initiated the dictatorship. Mussolini’s speech ended with a rhetorical invitation to indict him. No one did in a parliament populated only by fascists, as the antifascist opposition had abandoned it in June, outraged by the murder of one of its leaders. The lessons for today are clear: preside over democratic institutions at all costs, indict criminal leaders at all times.
At one point during the TV series, Mussolini turns to the camera and says: “Democracy is beautiful. It even allows you the possibility of destroying it.” Let’s remind ourselves it also allows the possibility of defending it. Let’s use it wisely and fully while we can.